


TPCD Club

by Gix



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bonding, Can we please normalize bros cuddling, Cuddling, Family Dynamics, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, No shipping, Oneshot, Other, Panic Attacks, Psychological Trauma, Techno is a bit oblivious, mentions of trauma, requests open, they all have some form of ADHD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 15,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27958961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gix/pseuds/Gix
Summary: “Traumatized by a Person I Cared about Dearly” Club, but they’d never admit that’s what it is.(Each chapter is a one shot :)
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Dave | Technoblade, Alexis | Quackity & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Alexis | Quackity & TommyInnit, Dave | Technoblade & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 232
Kudos: 1085





	1. Introductions

TPCD Club 

Members: HUGE MAN TOMMY, Tubbo, QUACKity, Technoblade (honorary)

Banned: GREEN BITCH, Wilbur(Ghostbur), HORNY EX PRES.

Signed:   
Tubbo, TOMMYY, QuACKity, techno.

They didn’t really need a reason to gather, nor do they supply one. It started as a silent pull to one another. Shared experiences, shared memories, shared pain, pulled the four together overtime. A silent agreement was formed (later to be solidified on paper by the two youngest.)

When it was appropriate -not mid war, in banned territory or the like- alliances can be put aside. This can’t be used to gain some physical wealth or information that helps “your side.” It can’t be used to manipulate another in the group, least the delicate ice they stand on break.

In its simplest explanation, it’s a therapy group.

Anyone in the group can come to anyone else, or even multiple others in the group, and seek out comfort. Any sort of bullshit that wasn’t directly between the individuals can be put aside during this time (no political affiliations, no “who you’re teaming with”, no this nation or that one.)

Tommy and Tubbo began the group by themselves, because that’s just how they are, stuck to the hip throughout anything.

When things got rough between them, Quackity and Tubbo bonded over the shared terrors of Schlatt’s presidency. Tommy came back, eventually, and while he was hesitant around the newcomer at first, he quickly came around.

Techno was a much stranger situation. He appeared randomly, always on the side of chaos, but still holding back repressed emotions the other traumatized teens picked up on. Tubbo and Tommy once saw Techno as their brother, and bringing him back in was much, much harder. Quackity however, was immediately open with the other, bubbly and kind despite past disputes. 

Each one had some kind of role in the group.

Tommy is who you go to when you need to get your emotions validated completely. He matches whatever energy the others bring him, then doubles it, making the other feel a little less stupid about what may’ve been an overreaction.

Tubbo acts as a kind of chaotic therapist. His advice isn’t the best, but he listens the most out of them, and patiently mulls over problems as though they’re his own. 

Techno offers realistic advice and opinions. He’s cold, distant, but is the best at de-escalating anxiety. 

Quackity is absolutely the best at providing relief. He makes people laugh, and will initiate 90 percent of physical contact in the group. If anyone needs a hug, hell, if anyone needs to cuddle for hours on end, they go to him.

And so, this delicate balance is set in place, unknown to anyone else on the SMP. 

(Requests now open)


	2. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno takes care of Quackity, whos been injured.

Techno really doesn’t know how to handle the others. Everyone’s so...emotional, it’s hard for him to keep up. 

That’s not to say Techno doesn’t have emotions, of course he does. He’s just not used to being so open about them, talking about how he feels and how others feel. Growing up with Philza, who isn’t the most open, and coming from a background of abandonment and abuse, he doesn’t have much time to process emotions in a way that’s not physical.

Fight your anger, sadness, and fear away. That’s the way he’d grown and learned. That’s the way he stayed the strongest. He hyper-fixated on the thought at all times, and that’s what keeps him powerful, in his opinion.

So when Quackity shows up at his base, injured and tears welling behind fearful eyes, he doesn’t quite know how to respond. 

He stares at the other, who looks back expectantly. Techno realizes after a minute he’s waiting to be let inside or turned away, so he swings the door open and allows the man to stumble inside. 

Techno focuses on the thing he’s best at: the physical.

Quackity has a bruise on his ribs where he’d presumably been kicked, and little nicks and scratches everywhere else. To Techno, it looks like he’s been shoved down a hill. 

The now-shirtless hybrid shifts around often, uncomfortable with the silence. Techno works on disinfecting and bandaging the worst of his wounds, touch surprisingly gentle. 

Quackity winces as he checks the bruise, making sure no bones were cracked or fractured in the fall.

“S’rry.” Techno mumbles as he continues to fuss over the other’s wounds. His cave-house is cold, which should help with numbing the pain, so he’s surprised when Quackity shakes harshly at his touch as he finally finishes the wraps around his ribs.

“Did that hurt? Maybe you do have a broken rib...”

Quackity shakes his head quickly.

“No! No n-no, don’t worry. It’s just, I’m a lil-little bit chilly.” 

His voice comes out hoarse and with a little wheeze.His wings, which had clearly not been groomed in years, shiver again and pull tightly to his body in an attempt to seek warmth. Techno frowns.

He’s used to the weather, he supposes, living up here on the snow tipped mountains.

Plus, he has his thick cloak which he wears near constantly, while Quackity wears a thin sweater-jacket that’s more to combat against wind then the cold.

So, Techno pulls the cloth from his shoulders and drapes it over Quackity. He even flips up the hood, which is lined with warm fur, and should feel similar to the beanie the teen usually wears.

Quackity is clearly surprised, eyebrows shooting up and staring at Techno as though he’s a figment of his imagination. Techno flushes slightly at the pressing eyes. Is it really that big of a deal?

“Thank you.”

Quackity tugs it closer on him and smiles as it heats up his body. Techno sees his wings come up from behind the coat and wrap tighter around his chest in a protective way. His frown deepens. Is the man still cold?

Quackity stares at the wall as the pig hybrid considers his options. He’s lost in thought, tears re-forming in his eyes. Techno really, really doesn’t want that.

But Quackity doesn’t start crying or spouting his problems as Techno feared, instead looking at him and opening his arms and wings slightly.

“Man, I really need a hug, if-if that’s cool with you, I mean, I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but-“

Techno pulls Quackity up easily, lifting him and carrying him to the closest bed in his base. Quackity stutters and wiggles against him, confused and discombobulated.

“Sit still.”

He grunts as he finally gets the bird man up the stairs, plopping him less-then-gracefully onto the bed. Quackity looks up at him in confusion, and Techno huffs as he pulls thick blankets over the other.

“You clearly need sleep. You’re delirious from your wounds.”

Quackity sputters.

“I-what?! Because I asked you for a hug? Dude!”

Techno snorts at the others protests, finally getting the man underneath all the covers and pushing him to lay down all the way.

“Just sleep.”

“Technooooooo.”

His whine follows Techno as he walks to the door, but Quackitys whining continues as he walks back to the stairs.

“Technoooo, cuddle meeee! I’m still cold cuz I lost blood-is that how it works? I’m pretty sure it is....Techno!”

He sighs. This really, really isn’t how he wants to spend his day. Defeated, he trudges back to the bed and nearly grins at the surprised and fearful look that crosses Quackitys face when he enters. 

Techno flops onto the bed next to Quackity without warning, causing the other to bounce slightly. Quackity laughs a little, and grabs at Techno, pulling the unmoving pig closer to finally hug him.

Techno grunts as the bird snuggles tightly into his side and puffs up his feathers in contentment. Warmth lit up his chest, pride swelling at the happiness clear on the others face. He _can_ connect with other people, he _can_ make them feel safe.

Maybe this whole affection thing isn’t so bad.


	3. Things Work Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno didn’t know what to expect when he finally visits Tommy in Logshirested, but it certainly wasn’t this.

It’s horribly lonely and cold. Ghostbur is trying, but he only makes it worse.

Tommy doesn’t like feeling this way, but he can’t help it. The crippling little pit in his stomach only grows the longer he stays away from the others, the more it sets in that he truly is exiled. 

Tubbo hasn’t come to see him, despite a message he’d sent through Ranboo which had extended the offer.

He wasn’t angry at Tubbo, not anymore. He knows everything that happened was his fault. The blame game wasn’t one he’d play anymore. 

Dream had laughed in a near-cruel way when he’d asked to go home, only cementing the fact he wouldn’t be able to.

He stands outside the Netherportal that would take him home, into L’Manburg. To his Tubbo, his friends and his real home. He turns away before he walks through, knowing Dream would kill him the moment he touches the purple ooze that makes up the portal. Instead, he walks to the edge and stares down.

His thoughts sit idly behind his eyes, doubts and regrets building there and resting like a great beast. The weight pulls him down, and he sits on the edge and stares down at the comforting warmth of the lava below. 

It sounds nice, for just a moment. To slip off the edge, fall into the heat bellow and not concern himself with the issues of the world anymore. It wouldn’t matter, anyway. No one would mind. He’s as insignificant as a grain of sand on the ocean floor, big picture.

He sits and thinks, pondering a gentle death. He couldn’t bring himself to push off, though. And that only made him feel worse. Not even brave enough to end the suffering, he thinks. 

“What are you doing, Tommy?”

Dreams voice is cold, ringing out against the somewhat quiet Nether. Tommy gets to his feet, still watching the lava bellow.

What would he do if I jumped off right now? Would he care? Bet that would make him feel bad.

Dream socks him in the shoulder, grabbing his arm harshly and dragging him back towards the Logsiersted portal. Tommy bitterly watches his escape become distant, not struggling in the bruising grip of the green-clad man.

“It’s not your time to die yet, Tommy.”

A sigh passes through him, and it feels like all his will to fight leaves with it. 

“It never is.”

When he gets back to camp, he can’t move. It’s nighttime anyway, so he curls up on his bed, closing off “tnrents” exits so no mobs sneak in. He can’t sleep, but he doesn’t want to move. He reaches for the compass that sits in his chest.

It points the same direction as always, teasing him. He could bring a boat across the ocean, not even that far! Probably a couple day journey, and he’d be home. He’d be with Tubbo again. 

The lava comes back to mind, but even that seems futile now. He can’t get his body to move two feet, much less the mile it takes to get to the Nether.

He closes his eyes and tries to sleep.

Techno didn’t know what he was expecting when Ghostbur told him “now would be a great time to visit!” But it certainly wasn’t this. 

Tommy, curled into a ball underneath his covers, pressed against the wall of a barely-functioning tent. He’s made a nest of sorts around him, hiding his face and most of his body. The bundle doesn’t look happy. 

All he’d wanted was to gloat a bit. Show Tommy that in the end he was right, that government had gotten him here. That he should’ve followed Techno while he had a chance.

Instead, he watches Ghostbur toss another piece of ‘blue’ on top of the pile, gently encouraging Tommy to grab it and melt his worries away. The bundle doesn’t move.

“How long has he been like this?”

Ghostbur shrugs, looking at least a bit sheepish.

“I don’t know. He hadn’t been out in a couple days, so I came and found him like this.” The Ghost pauses, tossing Techno some more of the weird blue material he carries.

“Go on, give him some! See if you can make him hold it, it helps!”

Techno shakes his head slowly. He grunts as he sits all the way down in front of the kids bed, shooing the ghost away. Ghostbur looks hurt, but Techno can tell the prick’s only making things worse. He sighs deeply, watching the bundle move slightly as Tommy breathes.

“Tommy.”

It’s cold, plain. Probably a bit blunter sounding then he meant it to, but that’s just how his voice works.

“You need to eat, kid.”

A grunt is heard, but no movement is made. Techno knows this is probably serious. He puts a cup of water on the chest next to his bed, and leaves the tent. Leaving makes him realize just how horrible the inside of that tent smells. The kid probably hadn’t bathed in days. 

He wrinkled his nose in disgust. He couldn’t stand dirty places, they remind him of the Nether too much, put him on high alert.

Despite this, food and drink comes first. Depending on how long it’s been, the kid could be half-dead right now. He makes soup and grabs an apple. He hopes the kid can still move.

Tommy is still hiding in the covers when Techno re-enters, water untouched. He sighs and puts down the soup, instead moving to stand over the kid.

“Up.”

It’s gruff, a command he doubts Tommy will listen to. Surprisingly though, the boy does. He sits up slowly, turning to face Techno, who has to restrain a sharp inhale.

The kid has been through the ringer. Clothes torn, tiny bruises and cuts everywhere, probably caused by his misadventures during his time in the wilderness.

The worst part for Techno, is the kids face. His cheeks are caved in slightly, dirt smeared across them. His eyes are dull, set deep in his sockets and deep purple hues give away a lack of sleep. It’s been a bit since he’s eaten or drank anything, that much is clear.

Techno takes pity and decides not to push on what made the kid feel this horrible. Instead, he brings the cup up to Tommy’s lips and helps him choke down some water. He sputters, gasping like he’d just returned from the bottom of a lake, coughing harshly.

“W-w-whaht the f-huh-huh-uck man?! Are you-you tryina kill me?”

Another harsh round of coughing begins, leaving even Techno’s lungs feeling sore. His voice is horribly raspy, clearly not used in a while. Techno holds the water to his lips again.

“Drink.”

“Hold on, hold on!! Let me fuckin breathe, Jesus.”

He seems somewhat alive again, which is relieving. Tommy takes a few more gulps of water before Techno is moving it aside and pushing the soup bowl into his hands instead.

“Eat up, loser.”

Tommy smirks at him as he digs in, which Techno returns with his own, reserved smile.

He watches the teen eat in silence, making sure he doesn’t make himself sick while also finishing the bowl. 

Neither of them are particularly good at talking about emotions, so the silence holds as Tommy finishes. He glances to the thing the kid is holding, a compass. Curiosity always kills the cat.

“What’s that?”

Tommy jolts, seeming to’ve forgotten Techno. He looks down and back again, sputtering.

“You don’t have to tell me, jus wondering.”

Tommy nods, looking down almost fondly at the thing. It’s a sad look, too. Oh god, he does not want to dig into thoseemotions right now.

“Wil-Ghostbur gave it to me. It points to Tubbo.”

Techno nods.

Ah. That’s what this is about.

He knows the two are inseparable, the closest thing to soulmates in reality. Tubbo exiling him must’ve been quite a blow.

He doesn’t know how to deal with this.

Techno brings his arm up awkwardly, ruffling the blonde hair and trying his best to look friendly.

“It’ll work out for you guys. I think.”

Tommy stares at him, slack-jawed for a few moments. Then he’s laughing, that loud, gremlin laugh that he spouts all the time. He grins at Techno, who still has his hand on top of the boys head.

“Thanks, Big man!”


	4. Technoblade Never Dies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Technoblade never does. Coming back to life is less jarring when your friends/brothers are there for you.

Technoblade never dies. _Ever_.

When he’s stabbed in the back, quite literally, he doesn’t really know what to do.

The sword the pigmen had thrust into his liver comes out the other side, and everything feels too much. It’s overwhelming, watching yourself be impaled. He kills the pigmen quickly, and races to the portal. He’s high enough on adrenaline that he’ll probably make it home in time to fix it up.

It’s painful, his stomach must’ve been punctured somehow, a horrible searing pain coming from his guts. His instinct is to hide, pull the damn sword out of himself and wait until it’s safe again. But Techno knows better.

He dashes through the snow. He isn’t that far from his base, but each step is another wave of agony, buckling his knees and causing bile to rise in his throat. He doesn’t dare look down right now. He can feel warmth trickling from him, down his leg and seeping into the snow.

His base is just a few feet away. He stumbles inside, tearing his clothes in his haste. His clothes are soaked in blood, which drips from him like a leaking faucet. He nearly pukes as he looks down at his own stomach. His own guts are there, splayed by the sharp edge. 

He has to get it out and stitch himself up, he knows. He preps the thread and needle. He tries desperately to ignore the horrible pain in his gut, assuring himself he can get through this, that most people would be dead right now. 

He tugs the sword out in one quick motion, preparing to stitch himself up and-and...

His hands can’t move. No, they _won’t_ move. Techno tries, pushing his hands, arms, wrists, hell, his fingers, to do anything. 

It’s like the muscles had suddenly disconnected, and now he’s stuck staring at the gush of blood that leaves his body. He’d be out of blood soon at this rate. His mouth goes dry. Blood spills everywhere, seeps into his floorboards and rug, small bits of his intestines following it all. It’s too much, the pain hurts so much, it’s too much-

He wakes up.

The air is freezing in the dimly-lit room he lays in. He sits up slowly, taking in his surroundings. He’s definitely not at his base, so who’s house is this? It’s wood and stone, a little fireplace in the corner acting as the only source of light.

Techno shifts, but is surprised by a weight on his legs that prevents him from getting up. He glances down. 

_Quackity_.

The man sits on a stool, head resting on Technos legs. He lets out a little snore and a grunt as the half-pig attempts to move again.

“Oh, you’re up.”

His head snaps up, making eye contact with Tubbo. The teen smiles softly at him, looking a little worried. He motions to the man sleeping on Technos legs.

“Sorry about that, Big Man. He was really scared, refused to sleep in a separate room.”

Techno nods slowly. It’s catching up to him slowly. He must’ve died. That would explain the sudden compassion and his change in location, but still, why is he  here ?

In L’Manburg, with Quackity and Tubbo of all people?

Tubbo’s soft footsteps startle him back to the present. The boy hands him some bread and meat, taking another stool next to his bed. Techno is wary, staring down the other intensely. He’s hungry, awfully so, but he’d be damned if he got poisoned.

Tubbo seemed to understand after a moment, picking a piece off of Technos bread and plopping it into his mouth, making a show of swallowing for him.

“Not poison. Promise.”

Techno nods, deciding to trust him for a moment. He eats quietly as Tubbo studies him. The teen opens his mouth to speak when Tommy bursts in.

“HEARD YOURE AWAKE, BIG MAN! TELL ME, HOW’D THE GREAT BLADE DIE? WAS IT A HUGE MASSACRE? DID SOMEONE TEAM UP ON YOU?!”

His booming voice has Quackity jolting and toppling from the stool. Even Techno jumps a bit at the sudden appearance. Tubbo just smiles dangerously and waits for Tommy to finish, slightly irritated at being cut off.

“As I was saying, Blade, do you need water or anything? I was really thirsty after my first reincarnation.”

Techno glances at the idiot who keeps babbling on about some great battle behind them, and the murderous bird-hybrid glaring at said idiot from the floor, then to the child president that sits in front of him. They’d all died before, reincarnated, lost a life.

How do they keep going?

Even as he lays in the comfortable bed he feels the pain in his back, the fight or flight instinct that’d kicked into overdrive, the terror in the knowledge that he’d probably be dead soon.

Tubbo ribs his shoulder, handing him more food and a water glass.

“Techno, it’s okay now man. You’re safe here, with us.”

Tommy pauses his great (made up) story about Technos death to nod at him. Quackity, having given up on the thought of revenge, returns to Technos bed, practically shoving him to the side as he slides under the covers with him and pulls Techno into a tight hug. He doesn’t really know how to react to it all.

Technoblade never dies, and he doesn’t cry either. So if anyone there were to say Techno shed a few tears, or even broke down sobbing in front of them, it’d be slander.

Following that, if they said he’d accepted Tommy’s hug, Tubbo’s comforting words and Quackity’s tight force-cuddles as he cried, it’d just straight up be a lie.

Still, though, if that _had_ , in some strange parallel universe, happened, he’d be grateful for his friends who stayed and comforted him throughout the night. 


	5. Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quackity pushes himself a bit to hard, luckily a certain pig hybrid is there to help.

Honestly, Quackity should probably be in bed right now. A harsh buzz fills his ears, making his eyes focus and unfocus without his permission. His body feels like it’s dragging through molasses, slow and sticky.

He really doesn’t know why-or how- he got out of bed in the first place.

He’s dead on his feet as he walks to the border of L’Manburg. He doesn’t want to be up at all right now, but when Tubbo told him to take a message to Technoblade of all people, he couldn’t refuse. The president seemed desperate, saying he couldn’t ask anyone else because he doesn’t want Dream to find out. 

So, here he is, already feeling like shit and trudging through the thick snow that leads to Techno’s base. 

He sees the lights a few feet ahead, but it seems so far. He feels so dizzy, limbs numb from the cold. His pace slows down without him allowing it to, but every push forward gets harder then the last.

_ This is it. This is how I fucking die. _

He slumps into the snow. He can’t move any further, if he dies from hypothermia, so be it. Maybe he’s being a bit dramatic, but he doesn’t care. No one cares if you’re being a drama queen when you’re dead.

“Hullo there.”

He can’t turn to the voice, but he knows who it is. If he could, he’d groan into the snow. He’s never living this down.

“Are uh-are you kissing the snow, or are you dead?”

A foot prods his side, and he does groan this time. His body is sore enough without being poked at. 

A small hum come from the man standing above him, and then his world is being spun. He squeals in surprise. Quackity doesn’t quite know what the fuck is happening, but he doesn’t have the strength to fight back.

_ This is it. Some beast has lifted me, and now I’m gonna be eaten alive. I’m gonna be mob chow. _

He goes limp, excepting his sad fate, as Techno carries him into the house.

Quackity doesn’t really remember the next part. His head spins as he’s sat down, a bunch of loud noises happen, and suddenly he’s warm. Like really, really warm. He fades in and out of consciousness for the next hour. Techno forces him to drink water and tries to get him to eat, but he’s so out of it that he can’t swallow properly. He fades again, slipping into a finally restful sleep.

He wakes up nearly a day later.

Quackity is surprised at his surroundings, not quite knowing how he got here. A fireplace is across the room, the wooden walls keeping the room nice and warm. He’s laying on a cot in the corner, buried under a pile of blankets. Next to him, sitting on a chest, is soup. 

He grabs the bowl and eats. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he started eating. He started wolfing down the whole thing.

As he finishes, the bed next to him shifts. Quackity stills, because what the fuck, what the fuck is in the bed with him.

Techno huffs as he pulls himself up. Quackity stares at the man, who he realizes was the strange source of warmth against his side. Techno gets close to his neck, and fucking sniffs him, before getting out of the bed.

_ What the fuck what the fuck what the actual fuck what- _

“You ate. Good.”

Quackity nods, still processing because what the fuck just happened-

“Thanks for the message. Tubbo?”

“Oh-uh. Yeah. Tubbo sent me to give it to you. I don’t know what it’s about so if it was offensive I’m really sorry I just was doing my job seriously man!”

His thoughts sort of overflow all at once. His brain being only half-conscious for the last 24 hours meant it all came back at once, the need to constantly think, all the stupid little details it stored without his permission.

Techno just laughs at him. The pig brings over another bowl of soup for him. Quackity realizes he’d slipped on glasses, and stares at the usually threatening man curiously.

“What?”

Quackity shakes his head, smiling to himself. Techno looks good in glasses, and a lot less mean. His wings puff with happiness underneath his shirt, which Techno sees and immediately takes interest in.

“Wings?”

“Oh yeah, hahah. I guess not many people know since I don’t really show them off that much. They’re useless anyway.”

Techno tugs at his shirt gently, and Quackity allows it to be pulled over his head. He shakes his wings as they’re set free. 

They’re small, yellow-white things. It’s clear they don’t have much practical purpose, and Quackity always treated them as a birth defect more then anything.

Techno, however, glares at him.

“What? What?!”

He squawks as Techno roughly moves him to face his wings. He combs his fingers through Quackitys wings, and the man melts under the touch.

Techno adjusts his feathers and pulls random crap they’d picked up from them. He relaxes, allowing his wings to be groomed. He’s nearly asleep when Techno speaks next.

“You need to take better care of these.”

He nods, not really registering words properly, as he slumps fully, into a peaceful sleep.

Techno snorts at the other, eventually finishing his caretaking and carrying him back to L’Manburg.


	6. Poquito

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spanish Nick-names for the boys

It’s subtle, and only happens on occasions. Tubbo is the first to notice it. 

They’re midway through making a bee containment and the day’s been slow. Tubbo glares at the bees, who yet again refuse to reproduce. At this rate, the hive will die.

His Vice President comes up behind him and startles the kid, grinning slightly wider when he jumps.

“You need to chillax a bit, _chico abeja~_ ”

He listens to Quackity slip from English to Spanish smoothly. A little bloom of curiosity forms in his chest.

Techno notices because he doesn’t know what the fuck is happening.

They’re running from Badboyhalo, because somehow Quackity, the absolute idiot, has managed to rile him enough to snap. Techno doesn’t really understand why he’s running as well, but just goes with it for now.

“ _Cuchilla_ , this way!!”

The first thing that crosses his mind is ‘the fuck did he just call me?” Then he’s sprinting to follow the man as Bad shrieks in rage again. 

Once they’re properly hidden, he asks,

“What did you call me?”

Quackity flushes slightly,

“Sorry. Accident.”

“Ok, but what did you say?”

“ _Cuchilla_. It means like blade or knife.”

Techno nods. He finds that he doesn’t mind the new title that much.

Tommy is already used to it, kind of.

Quackity adds Spanish into his sentences often, sometimes without realizing it. Still, Tommy is always curious what he says.

It’s only when Tubbo tells him that Quackity has been giving them Spanish Nick-names that it dawns on him.

“ _PEQUEÑO NIÑO?!_ ”

Quackity’s laugh is heard for miles.

  
  


**_Chico abeja=(Roughly) Bee Boy_ **

**_Cuchilla=Blade, Knife_ **

**_Pequño niño=Small boy/child_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if any of my translations are wrong, my Spanish is a bit rusty.


	7. Sleepy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo really should be asleep, in Quackitys professional opinion.

It’s stressful to govern a new nation, especially when your Vice President doesn’t participate in most actions.

He doesn’t mind doing most of the work. It’s easier that way, less conflict. It does keep him up late most nights, though. He doesn’t mind, really. He drinks something caffeinated, usually tea _(Schlatt’s breath always smelled like coffee or alcohol. Tubbo has avoided both since his presidency.)_

It’s one of those nights where he’s up until two working through paperwork. He’s settled into the monotony of his work, sipping his tea and reading yet another document. 

He doesn’t hear the Vice President enter, nor does he see the anger clear on the mans face. 

“Tubbo. What the fuck is this?”

He jolts up, turning to face the new visitor. Quackity looks irritated. Not quite angry, but definitely not happy.

“I-wha?”

Quackity shoves a piece of paper to him, probably more harsh then he intended. The paper is a bit wrinkled, and his tired eyes can’t even read anymore. Tubbo tries desperately o read it, he really does, but his eyes feel numb and useless in his head. 

To be fair, he’s running on two hours of sleep and a cup of tea. He hadn’t even eaten today in his rush to finish work. Still, he tries to push a coherent thought through his head.

“Sorry, big man. I’ll try to fix that right tomorrow, promise.”

Quackity’s eyes narrow. It was just the pushback of a date, it didn’t take that long. He actually focuses on Tubbo, examining the boy.

Tubbo has a half-finished cup of tea sitting on the table, but his eye bags are still deeply set and purple. His suit looks to big and wrinkled, but still too tight at the collar, forcing the boy to sit straight so he doesn’t choke. 

Tubbo confirms his suspicions when he stifles a yawn and a tear slips from his eye. 

Sleep deprived.

Horribly so, it seems. Quackity pushes his anger to the side. Right now, the kid probably couldn’t even read what he was being shown.

“Tubbo, you gotta sleep.”

Tubbo shakes his head harshly _(stars flicker behind his eyes with the motion, he chooses to ignore that.)_

“I’m almost done with this weeks work. What I gotta do is finish this.”

He motions to the pile of papers on his desk, which make it blatantly clear that he’s nowhere near finished with work. Quackity scowls.

The president is stubborn, choosing to ignore Quackity and his need for sleep, instead turning back to the paper he’d been ( _not_ ) reading and motioning for the other to leave.

It’s times like these when Quackity is proud of his height.

He lifts the scrawny, twig of a child and starts carrying him to his room. Tubbo struggles weakly, nearly elbowing the man in the face, but Quackity refuses to give up.

“I wouldn’t even be able to sleep! I just drank tea!”

He practically has to pin Tubbo to the bed when he finally gets there. The kid still struggles, even as Quackity stuffs him under the warm covers and tucks him in.

“You can sleep, trust me. With how much you drink caffeine, you definitely got a tolerance.”

Tubbo still tries to get up, so Quackity just fucking sits on him.

Tubbo fake wheezes as he pushes on Quackitys shoulder.

“I can’t fuckin breath get off!”

“Stop whining and go to sleep you big baby.”

Quackity laughs as the other continues to push at him. It’s futile, the older has built a bit of muscle at least, while Tubbo is just a stick. He can’t push him off with just his arms, especially with how tired he already is.

“The more you struggle, the longer this lasts, _niño_.”

Tubbo fights for another five minutes before collapsing. The weight on him is oddly comforting, but he’d never admit it. Especially with the smug smile Quackity is giving him. He huffs, pride damaged, but to tired to truly care.

“Fine, fine. I’ll sleep. Just get off me before I die.”

Quackity does slowly, but stays nearby as Tubbo shifts in the bed.

Thankfully, he’s just moving to his side so he can finally rest. It brings a smile to the others face. Quackity, still wide awake, walks down the hall and decides to give the president a little help with paperwork.

He smiles when he comes back an hour later and hears gentle snoring through the door.


	8. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno, Tommy and Tubbo take care of Quackity after a horrible nightmare.

“Love you?”

It’s quiet but deadly. 

The other mans eyes seem to grow monstrous as he curls further above Quackity. It hurts. A snide laugh echos in his head.

“Love  _ you _ ? Oh, that’s just  hilarious .” His face is twisting further from human, becoming longer and gnarled. His slitted eyes narrow in on its prey, boring down and threatening to consume him.

“Quackity, I could never love you. I doubt anyone loves your pathetic ass.”

It doesn’t even give him time to process or retort. It’s claws nip at his throat as it pins him to the wall. Then, he’s kissing Quackity. Their teeth clash and bite, and blood oozes into his mouth. It’s gross, bitter copper taste fills covers his tongue and fills his nose. Schlatt bores down further, choking him on his own blood as those fucking eyes continue to push into him.

He gasps for breath as the hand comes free, jolting up. It’s coming for him still, he feels it. It’s chasing him, it’s going to kill him, it’s going to shove it’s hand down his throat and eat his guts. 

Quackity whimpers and presses to the cold wall. He needs to run, but his body is exhausted. When he drags himself to the edge of-well whatever he’d been sitting on-he falls onto the floor. It’s harsh, definitely bruising his hip, and makes a loud noise. 

“Quackity.”

He startles, it’s here. It’s going to get him.

“ _Quackity_.”

A strong grip holds his shoulder. It’s gentle though, not the harsh grip from before. He leans into it slightly. It could change in an instant, become that deadly clawed grip the moment he lets his guard down, but he allows himself a second of comfort.

The grip doesn’t change though, simply draws him closer to someone’s chest, and soothingly runs up and down his back. Another, quieter voice comes from his left, and he finds himself tending again.

“Is he okay? Shit, man what do we do?”

Yet another new voice joins them.

“He just needs to wake up a little more. He probably had a nightmare.”

_ Nightmare? Nightmare? _

The creature of his dreams fades, and with it the fear. His surroundings slowly register again. He’s in the house. They’d made this house as a group after Pogtopia had become to lonely for them. Wilbur had decided to stay behind, which honestly, he’d preferred. The house is stable wood and stone. And it’s warm, unlike the cold unforgiving temperatures of the ravine Pogtopia sits in.

Techno is holding Quackity to his chest while Tubbo gently rubs his back. Tommy seems to be panicking more then Quackity himself is.

“Oh god, oh fuck what’s happened to him?! _Fuck_ , Tubbo!”

Tubbo pinched Tommy, glaring at him.

“You are not helping.”

Techno murmurs, face buried in Quackitys hair as he grips the man tightly.

He’s safe. Schlatt’s dead, and the creature in his dreams isn’t real. They can’t hurt him. He’s safe, and his friends are here. He’s safe.

It takes a while to realize he’d been crying. He leaves a wet patch on Technos shirt, which he desperately wipes at in hope that he doesn’t embarrass himself. This just draws more attention to his tears, though, and soon Tubbo is scooting closer as well, half-sandwiching Quackity between him and Techno. 

Tommy clearly felt left out, because he’s suddenly dropping his panic and instead shoving himself into the pile, squeezing them all closer.

He whines softly when Techno pulls away, which causes a domino of everyone leaving the hug. He tugs on the pigs shirt half-consciously, and Techno huffs a little laugh at him.

Then he’s being pulled to his feet and pushed over to the bed. 

Techno holds him to his chest still, and Tubbo joins them quickly, laying behind Quackity. Tommy literally jumps on top of them, and he swears to fuck the kid just broke his ribs. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

It comes from behind him, Tubbos voice muffled by the suffocating weight on top of them all. 

“Nah.”

His voice still shakes from crying, but he feels better already. It’s warm here, safe. They drift back to sleep together, safely held by their closest friends.


	9. Seams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream attempts to split the gang.

Dream was not happy when he found out Tubbo, Tommy and Quackity would make secret trips to Techno. 

The man is close in strength to Dream, some way or another. He’s a threat, and having people who’re supposed to only listen and follow his word go to Techno, of all people, for comfort, is the beginning of betrayal.

He couldn’t tell them to stop, though, because he’d loose respect, and probably push them closer to Techno instead.No, Dream needed a plan.

So he starts with Tommy.

Probably the weakest link, always led by emotion over critical thoughts, never second-guessing himself when he should.

All Dream has to do is convince the kid to grief a little, cause a little mischief. He gives Tommy his trident and tells him to go have fun. Of course, it takes the other mere seconds to crash into a wall, toppling part of the house and destroying the furniture inside. Everyone in L’Manburg had to have heard it.

His theory is proven true as Tubbo and his secretary rush over to the building and see the damage Tommy’s done. Quackity’s response is immediate. Once he sees Tommy hasn’t been hurt, he’s shouting, telling off the kid for doing something stupid again and putting bad rep on the government. Now, they’d have to pay for damages and pray they still have peoples respect.

Tubbo is angry, but holds back. He attempts to explain to Tommy why they’re upset, but the teen isn’t having it.

“It’s not my fucking fault! It was an accident, why are you so fuckin angry?!”

“Tommy, you are the Vice President! You can’t get away with this because you represent us! You represent me!”

“Fuck off, it’s not even a big deal!”

Quackity jumps in again, looking ready to strangle someone.

“It is though, Tommy! This can’t keep happening or we’re gonna get overthrown like with Schlatt!”

“I’m not fucking Schlatt!”

“Well you’re acting like him!”

Perfect. 

Tommy stutters back, hurt by the others words.Tubbo stays silent. 

Perfect.

And, predictably, Tommy goes to Techno. It’d be a lot simpler to separate those two then Tubbo or Quackity and Techno.

And, predictably, they fight near immediately. So, Dream takes his chance and does what he does best: pretends.

He pretends to comfort Tommy while pulling him further from the others, telling him they despise him, don’t trust him.

Tubbo stopped going to see Techno, too. Everything was going smoothly, pulled along by the masked puppeteer.

Until one dumbass bird-hybrid had to go and fucking ruin it.

Of course, _of course_ , Quackity would be the one to notice.

“Tommy, we don’thate you! Dream is just fucking with us, man. He doesn’t care about you!”

“....”

Luckily, Tommy is fueled by emotion, and ignores the others squawking. 

“Shut up, bird brain! Dream doesn’t care about what we fuckin’ do, you guys are just being dicks! Comparing me to Schlatt, of all fuckin’ people-“

“Tommy! Please, look I’m sorry okay, I didn’t mean it!”

“No, you did. You wouldn’t say it if you didn’t.”

“Look, Tommy- _Tomas_! Eyyyy man, Tomas! We’re friends, okay? Friends can figure this shit out, man!”

“Oh _fuck off_ , Q.”

Tommy ram away, because he doesn’t know what else to do. Dream simply smiles as the flustered bird man gapes after him, confused and upset.

They can pretend all they like to be friends, but Dream always knows where to pull at the seams.

(What he doesn’t realize is that he’s simply made their bonds stronger, after they realized what was happening.

A new name was added to the “Banned” list.)


	10. Let’s Talk Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno still feels...things about the betrayal of Pogtopia. Quackity can translate.

He thought things were going well. He worked so damn hard, going days without sleep, for them. And he was still abandoned in the end.

Once Techno’s use for Pogtopia stopped, he was left behind.

Sure, maybe it was a miscommunication on what the actual goal was. Techno wanted freedom-real freedom- for L’manburg. Pogtopia wanted a new government, yet another dictatorship.

Techno has never really understood his own emotions. It felt like a disconnect between his brain and heart, always. In his head he knew it was coming, and he should’ve been prepared for it. Sure, he wasn’t expecting such a harsh response to his actions, but he thought he was ready to be alone again after Pogtopia got its way. That’s why he’d prepared the withers, he knew, really.

So why does he feel like a piece of shit?

Less then that, why does he feel like a stain on the floor that his once-friends sneer at in disgust as they pass by?

Techno had thought once, for just a moment, that Tubbo, Tommy and Quackity would be on his side.

That, after seeing how unhinged Wilbur had become, how dictator-like the man truly was, they’d decide to join him inhis anti-government views.

Instead, they treated him like a monster. They told him to get out and never come back, that he was no longer their friend. It hurt more then he expected it to.

They still talk to him, sometimes. He gets texts from Tommy asking for help on some stupid stunt he’d pulled, questions from Tubbo about the current project. It was confusing, really. He’s always been bad at picking up on certain social cues, but this has to be their fault, not his. They’re the ones being confusing, telling him to leave, that they hate him for what he did, while simultaneously using him for comfort.

Tonight he feels worse then usual. Tubbo had asked for his help again, and he’d offered to give his guidance in person, because it seemed like the kid was really confused by this one. After nearly a minute of silence, the president had simply answered “Nevermind, thank you Techno.” And hung up.

At first he’d just huffed a laugh to himself and moved on, but as the day drudged on, his thoughts kept coming back to that moment.

The kid was right to be a little hesitant, he supposes, he had summoned withers to destroy L’manburg, after all. He hadn’t actually hurt them, though. Wilbur was the one who decided to blow the place sky high, marking them all with permanent burn scars. He was the one who Techno heard laughing as the rubble and ash of the city fell around them. He was the one who watched Quackity fall from the sky, one wing literally on fire, and fucking smirked. As if the three teens he’d been manipulating for the last few nights deserved it, as if all their work was for nothing at all. 

It’s not as if Techno wants, or ever wanted, chaos like Wilbur did.

He knows there should be rules, standards people should be held to, even trade set ups. He just doesn’t think a dictator-like power should be needed to uphold that. L’manburg now is close to being fine, because it’s Tubbo. 

That kid doesn’t treat anyone as lesser, and doesn’t use his power to benefit only himself. That’s why Techno hadn’t gone back to finish his destructive streak. (That, and he couldn’t bare to see the terrified and hurt looks on their faces again. He pretends it didn’t get to him, but the image of them on that day still stands perfectly in his mind.)

If anything, Techno helped the nation. They rebuilt it, stronger and larger then ever, and without the creation of a dictator in the process. New L’Manburg is thriving!

So why, _why_ does he slump to the ground as he gets home? Why does his heart feel like it’s seizing, and his blood rush through his ears as a choked sob escapes him. Why does it hurt to know that he can’t go back?

He’s not used to crying. He didn’t even know he could cry, before now. Always assumed he couldn’t, because of his hybrid nature. It was a stupid thought, now that he reflects on it. 

He cries, and everything comes back. Immense guilt, confusion, crippling self-doubt. He’d lost his friends, and he’s never getting them back. 

A weak whimper pushes from his throat at the thought, and he curls tighter on himself. He shouldn’t be crying. He’s being weak, and it’s gross, and he needs to stop it but  he can’t . He can’t stop it, and that scares him, which pushes him further into panic, which causes new tears to push forth from his eyes like a great boiling ocean. 

“Oh. Uh, hey, Techno.”

_Quackity_.

He desperately tries to pull himself together and get away from the other, but it’s too late. Quackity’s entire demeanor shifts as he notices the tears on Technos face. His looks...worried?

No, no. He couldn’t be worried. After all, Techno was the one who hurt him before. He couldn’t even look Techno in the eyes most times because of his fear. There’s no way he’s worried.

Yet, soon he feels gentle hands pulling him to his feet and up the stairs. Then, he’s sitting on his chair and Quackity is handing him water, telling him to drink. 

He does, but his brain is going a mile a second. First, why is Quackity in his house? How did the bird hybrid get in? Why is the man helping him, of all people? Why didn’t he just leave after he saw Techno crying? Is this some sort of trap?

Quackity is there again, and he just starts talking. He sits in front of Techno and smiles soft at him, and just fucking talks. And the weirdest part? 

_ It helps. _

Techno tunes in and out as the other tells some random story, and it helps him calm down. Quackity’s animated movements and loud voice works like white noise for his brain, tuning out thoughts and not allowing him to be swallowed by the panic. Slowly, Techno calms down.

Quackity has finished the first story and is about to move to the next when Techno finally speaks.

“Why-what are you doing here?”

Quackity looks surprised, but grins as he faces Techno.

“I jus’ came for a visit! We haven’t been seeing a lot of eachother, lately.”

Techno snorts.

“Because you guys banned me.”

Quackity’s smirk fades slightly he nods, face suddenly contemplative. He studies the pig man, tear streaks still visible on his cheeks, eyes still puff and ears still drooping lower then usual.

“Is that why you were upset?”

“ _No_.”

It’s too quick, to defensive, and they both know it. Techno doesn’t want Quackity to say it, though. If he says it, that makes it real. And it means he’ll have to talk about it. He’s not even sure he can put what he’s feeling into words, honestly.

Instead of pressuring him, to his surprise, Quackity pulls out his phone. He types something, sends it off to who-knows-where, and turns back to Techno.

“You’re lonely.”

There it is.

Techno nods. He really, really doesn’t want to have the other dig into his feelings. Quackity frowns at the half-baked response, but continues nonetheless.

“You feel...betrayed? By us?”

Techno doesn’t look at him, and that’s answer enough. Quackity looks sad, and Techno doesn’t know if he can handle that, the pity.

A knock comes from the door. It startles him, because only himself, Quackity and Phil know where his base is, and Phil wasn’t around right now. So who in the fuck is at the door?

Quackity is unbothered, pushing himself up and letting the people at the door in-Tommy and Tubbo.

This must be some sick joke, or a nightmare. Why the _fuck_ would they be here, now, when Techno feels the worst? 

Honestly, Tubbo looks just as confused about the situation. He glances around, meets Technos eyes, then darts away again, focusing on anything else. Tommy looks nervous but at least like he knows where he is, walking to the middle of the room and sitting there in a falsely-confident way.

They all eventually sit, Quackity leaning his head in Techno’s armrest, the other two forming a half circle in front of them. It’s odd, having all of them in one place, especially when Techno feels like an outsider. He sort of wants to leave, because it feels like the other three are having a conversation without him, silently glancing at eachother. 

Before he can get sucked back down into another cycle of fear, Quackity speaks.

“Alright, fellas. We’re gonna finally talk about our feelings.”

Immediately, everyone’s squirming. Tubbo glances at Tommy, who stares at Quackity like he’d grown another head. Techno would snort if he weren’t so horrified at the mans words himself.

“I’ll start! I feel like we’ve been treating Techno like shit, and that needs to change.”

He blinks. 

Well, that’s...not what he expected. He finds himself mimicking Tommy’s expression from earlier.

“Okay, now Tubbo, you go!”

The teen squirms under the attention. He breathes deeply, then stares at the carpet as he talks,

“Uh, well. I-I’m unsure of...well. I think-er-feel like Techno betrayed uh-us during the revolution and maybe, well. Maybe we shouldn’t treat him badly, but Um, I don’t think we should let him back into L’manburg, you know?”

Techno does snort this time. The boy looks scared, but he gets it. Kind of.

“He betrayed us? When?”

“Well, when he summoned a bunch of withers-“

“It was only two.”

“And destroyed L’Manburg. And hurt us all.”

“I didn’t destroy it. And I-I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

Tubbo glares at him, and Techno actually feels threatened for a moment. The kid is usually so mild-mannered, if not a bit chaotic.

“What where you doing then?”

It’s Tommy who says it this time, his voice softer then usual. Techno sighs.

“I feel like Techno was trying to help us, in his own way.”

Quackity. The bird seems to understand how he feels better then he does himself, and he turns back to see him smiling comfortingly at Techno from the floor.

“I think Techno felt betrayed by us, when we left him. I think.”

It’s less confident, but no less true. Techno glances back at the others.

“Yeah. What he said.”

It goes quiet. Tubbo opens his mouth and closes it a couple times as he processes the words.

“Well I feel like Techno lied to us and said he was on our side when he wasn’t.” Tommy snarks, it comes off a bit childish but it still feels like a hit to the gut.

“ _I_ lied to _you_? You guys said we’d change things! That we wouldn’t end in yet another dictatorship! Then you used me for resources and left me behind! I told you all from the beginning what I wanted, and you all chose to ignore it so you could use me! _I thought we were friends!”_

It’s quiet.

Techno’s pretty sure that’s the longest he’s spoken at once. He doesn’t want to see their faces. He knows they’re probably just more upset now. Any second they’ll get up and leave and any threads of friendship he’s been clinging to will finally snap. He closes his eyes and starts tugging his hair. _(An unconscious habit he’d picked up during his youth. A way to remind him things are real and keep himself centered.)_

“We are friends, Big Man.”

Tubbos voice is soft, gentle. It’s also closer, and he opens his eyes to see the teen standing right in front of him.

Tubbo smiles at him in a sad way, and holds out his hand.

“I never knew you felt that way, Technoblade. I-I want to apologize. I want to be friends again, if you’ll let me.”

It’s such a sudden shift in emotions that Techno swears he has whiplash. Tommy is looking guilty from his spot on the floor, and Quackity is smirking slightly at his side.

He takes a deep breath, and takes Tubbo’s hand, nodding.

They smile at eachother, and he can see little tears well up in the others eyes.

“Ah, com’on! You guys should hug! That was a half assed make up!”

Tommy chuckles as Quackity shouts more orders at them, telling Techno he should force Tubbo to do handstand or something. Tommy holds out his hand, too.

“I’m really sorry, Big T.”

Techno lets himself be vulnerable for a moment. He pushes himself to his feet and pulls the two into a tight hug. His eyes burn, but he ignores it, basking in the moment. They both hug him back, and any tension he was still feeling finally fades from his body, leaving him tired from the emotional workout.

“I’m a therapist, you know!”

Of course Quackity had to ruin it.

“No youre fucking not.”

Tommy shoves away from the hug and immediately starts rough housing with Quackity, who shrieks in surprise. Soon, Tubbo is joining in as well, helping Tommy pin down the bird-hybrid. Techno heaves a great sigh.

Oh yeah, this is why he doesn’t hang out with these brats.


	11. Icy Feathers but Warm Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look, I’m sorry this isn’t an update but please listen...

ALRIGHT SO,

I made a new fic that I’m really proud of, and I wanted to make it separate to this one but I also think that anyone who likes this fic will like my other one.

it’s called “Icy Feathers but Warm Hearts”, and it’s centered around Quackity, Philza and Technoblade as hybrids.

Here’s a snippet:

”He spreads his wings as he falls. The one thing he can be thankful for about his hybrid nature is his ability for flight.

His wings shift his too far, though, and one of them strikes a jagged rock sprouting from the cliff face. He’s on his back suddenly and he can’t flip himself over. One of his wings won’t respond to his muscles, limp at his side. The other flaps uselessly, and then he’s hitting the ground with a sickening crack.”

Go read the rest and the fic it was inspired by! Out now :D

I’m working on the requests for this fic right now, those will be out in the near future!

Thanks,

-Gix


	12. Unspoken Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Technos native tongue is violence, and it boils his guts.

His native tongue is violence.

It’s something he’s known and felt since birth. The words slide from his tongue easily, with practiced fluidity, inaudible to all but himself. It’s a deep, integral part of himself that will always be there, no matter how much he denies it. 

Some days he ignores his language, chooses silence instead. He forces the sounds into the background, falls into a different rhythm. Those rhythms come from anything that happens to catch his attention, farm work, turtles, wolves, cows. Gathering supplies so his mind goes numb with the beat, his language near-hidden. He’ll even read a book or two on these days. His thoughts come through like molasses instead of a river, and he can rest for a moment before returning to the rushing tide. These days are rare.

Other days, he can’t avoid the pounding sounds of his language. It bleeds into all his thoughts and pounds against his chest, pulling him further from humanity. His eyes unfocus at times, and then he’ll  feel it. He’s blind, yet more aware then he feels any other time. His words become liquid around him, seeking out and killing anything is happens across. His bones move with the parlance of his speech.He allows himself to follow it, numb to the world, blood pulsing with the beat. He’ll remember himself hours later, when he’s covered in blood and gore, choking on his own bile as he prays it wasn’t someone he cared for.

He vomits because he knows that he  _ wouldn’t care if it was. _

Most days are spent somewhere in-between. He feels those words brush against his ears, asking for an invitation, and he opens the door. He opens it, but he still stands in the doorway, blocks a full entrance. They try to shove their way in, but he holds strong. He kills mobs, and he can feel the movements he makes as he does it. He can speak to people, on these days. Not that many people particularly want to speak to him. 

Today is a mixture.

Those words have stood at the door, waiting to be let in for to long. It pounds at him today. It fills his ears with noise, pounds on his ribcage like a trapped bird. The door remains closed, and his vision doesn’t fuzz, but he feels like he’ll be swallowed soon.

Techno decides to ignore the rising pressure within himself. It’s one of his clearer days, and it’s time to get some work done. The voices are mere buzzes against his ears today, easily swatted like mosquitos. 

He enjoys living in the icy land, it keeps him clearer. The cold wakes him up, prevents him from becoming to complicate with the draw in his head. It’s why he spends as little time in the Nether as possible. Sadly, today was not a day that it can be avoided. He needs netherite, and today is the day he gets it.

He slips his armor on slowly. If he’s honest with himself, the Nether is the one place he dreads going to. The words are louder there, more demanding. In the Nether he’s just another mob. He remembers several times when a human had mistaken him for a pigman and tried to attack him. Sometimes he attacked them in return.

The cool ice world around him fades as he steps into the purple swirls. His vision swims in that awful, familiar way, and he’s surrounded by heat. The effects of the portal lasts a few seconds before he can see the ground under his feet. The heat presses into his skin, immediately making his head feel fuzzy, filling with those loud voices. He shoves it down.

Techno pushes through those thoughts that threaten to overtake him, walking further into the Nether. 

He mines for hours, blowing up large portions in search for Netherite, but not getting very lucky. His brain shouts in frustration at him. He’s on edge, every distant noise of a ghast of snort of a pigman making him tense. He’s running out of energy, and out of materials. He mines one last piece of ancient debris, and finally turns to head home.

He’s hit with nausea. The sounds in his head have been hounding him the entire time, despite his attempts to ignore it. He stumbles dangerously as he makes his way back. His body wants to seek something out, kill and kill and keep killing until he passes out. The air burns his skin. He can’t quite remember which way is which. Techno whines low in his throat, he can’t handle this. The pounding of his head feels like a drill, and every motion he attempts tries to be violent, a lash against anything close. 

“Techno?”

He glances up, meeting eyes with Tubbo. The president looks nervous, pickax strapped to his side and sword in hand, staring at Techno from the pathway above. 

Techno tries to calm down, stop his shaking, but it fails. A harsh cough rips from his lungs, and he’s just now realizing how dry his throat is. Upon hearing his distress, Tubbo runs down to him. 

He knows that if he could move right now, the kid would probably be dead. 

His vision blurs, but he distantly listens to Tubbo’s mumbling, and feels the movement as he’s dragged. 

The chill against his skin pulls him back to reality. It’s still slightly fuzzy on the edges, but he can hear Tubbo panting nearby. The voices have faded back into the recesses of his mind. He’s thankful for that as mobility returns to his limbs. 

He nods to Tubbo as he rises, walking in the direction of his house. He feels a small tug on his cape.

“Techno. I-I’d just like to say sorry. I know you’re trying to change, and Quackity took it way too far, I-I didn’t think-“

Techno puts a hand on the kids hair and huffs at him.

“Go back to the Nether, Tub. I’m fine.”

The voices are back, this time trying to push his hands at the teens neck, snap it like a twig, choke him, get his revenge. He shoves Tubbo away and continues the path home. He hears the sad noise that it pulls from the kid, and guilt piles in his gut.

He hates the language in his skin.


	13. Held at a Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy is still getting back in the swing of things, and sometimes he needs help to do so.

It’s odd to have friends again. 

After spending so long alone in Logstedshire, with only Dream (the dickhead) for company, he’s not used to all the...talking. Or touching.

He’d escaped the tormenting clutch of the great green bastard, now living with Techno. Philza pops by pretty often, despite being on house arrest, technically.  (It makes Tommy happy to know that Tubbo still holds a soft spot for punishments, apparently he’d even suggested a “sneaky way” for Phil to leave his house without the president noticing.)

Ranboo even comes over occasionally, and honestly, despite Techno’s chaotic, government-destroying ways, Tommy’s happy. For the first time in a while, he has people on his side. Sure, they swore to each other they wouldn’t become friends, this is just mutually beneficial usage, but they’re allies. 

Techno is honest, and that’s the most comforting thing of all. He doesn’t sugar coat things or push Tommy towards one option or the other. Even when Tommy had almost left, abandoned any hope for a new ally, Techno had simply spoken the truth. Either he leaves, probably looses a fight for the discs within the first five seconds, and dies forgotten, or he joins Techno and actually makes a dent in Dream’s armor. The choice, as much as he’d hated it at the time, was obvious.

Still though, this newfound partnership is really throwing him off kilter.

Techno pats him on the back when he passes, isn’t afraid to lean in close. Philza hugged him when he saw the boy for the first time, a foreign feeling for Tommy. Phil also just...is affectionate, always. He hugs Tommy in greeting, ruffles his hair, high fives him, just a physical person. Even Ranboo joins in a bit, giving Tommy cautious hugs if he seems down, which he appreciates greatly.

Dream hadn’t hugged him once throughout their “friendship.” He smacked Tommy-maybe a little too hard-sometimes, shook his hand when they made a deal, maybe. Once he’d gotten angry at Tommy for trying to give the man a side hug, shoving him off and telling him to just “shut up and put your shit in the hole.” He’d apologized. The man seemed disgusted by them, even when pretending to be pals.

He startles out of his skin when Techno first hugs him. He’s warm, like really warm, and it makes everything, for just an instant, feel alright.

Techno is like a really, really bitchy older brother.

He’s more serious then Tommy, but that dry humor slips into most things he does. Tommy laughs a lot at the man getting annoyed, but he knows when he’s taken it too far. He was anxious about fucking up when he first joined the other. 

It’s hard to distinguish what someone’s reaction will be to your fuck up when the only contact you’ve had for several months was gaslighting you.

When Techno first discovered Tommy, the teen was about ready to accept death. He thought, for a moment, that he probably deserved to have Techno stick a blade through his heart and let death claim him at last. He’d babbled, purposely riling the sword wielding pig up. If Tommy is going to die, he’ll go out shouting about what bitches everyone is. 

He’d been taken aback when Techno did not slam an ax into his skull, and instead offered him a choice. He’d even asked Tommy what happened, if he was alright.

Completely different treatment from Dream.

Still, though, Tommy finds himself falling into the patterns he had with the green tyrant. It’s what he was used to, what had been expected of him. He’s called Techno his boss several times, asks permission before doing basically anything, he even expects angry reactions that never come.

He hopes that changes. He hates feeling so...weak. Vulnerable. 

On the other hand, he wants Techno to be more vulnerable.

It’s not that he particularly  enjoys hugging Techno, it’s just that sometimes he wants to feel like actual friends.

Sometimes the man pats his back, and he leans into it because he misses being  touched.  The short, once-in-a-while hugs just aren’t cutting it most times. For a short period of time, he’ll feel better, but at other times he feels horribly alone. Empty, lonely teen who no one wants. He thinks about Dream a lot, during those times.

Would Dream appreciate him? No, absolutely not. Would he hug him? No, of course not. Was any of that real to Dream? ....

He doesn’t like those thoughts. All he can think about is the craving for Dreams praise, for Dream to hug him and tell him he did well, despite Tommy knowing the truth of it all. It stings, the fact that even the few times Dream  had shown affection were for show.

Tommy sits on his bed. The bottom room is colder the the rest of the house, but at least it’s not as cold as before. Techno had moved some torches in for him, promising that he’d build a fireplace or some form of heating for the teen long-term. 

It’s cozy down here, but he still feels so alone. Techno’s footsteps and voice can be heard upstairs, and it would be so easy to climb up the latter and bother him.

Except that Tommy doesn’t want that. He wants to go upstairs and Techno to just hug him. Tell him it was going to be okay, even if that’s a blatant lie. He wants to go back to those times in Pogtopia where they cuddled together for warmth with Tubbo. He misses feeling like brothers.

He does, eventually, climb up that latter. Of course Techno doesn’t immediately take him into his arms and squeeze him, he just sits, drinking coffee and reading. He looks over his glasses when Tommy comes up, giving a little grunt of greeting. 

Tommy doesn’t want to lower himself to the level of begging for affection. He heads to the food chest, searching for anything to distract from the pull to run over and force-hug his older brother. It fails.

He’s nearly to the latter when Techno speaks, looking up from the book.

“See you later, Racoon.”

He laughs harder then he should. He laughs until he sounds hysterical, Techno awkwardly chuckling along. He looks a bit worried about Tommy’s mental state, which is fair.

Tommy glances at the latter, but he can’t go down and be alone in the cold again.

Instead he rushes over to Techno, watching the man tense, and literally jumps on top of him.

Techno groans in pain as Tommy crushes him. He’s not exactly small, weighing just a little less then Techno, and he definitely landed on top of his hand. The hybrid just sighs heavily and glares at him.

“What are you doing? What is this?”

Techno pulls him up by the collar of his shirt, much like a cat. Tommy grins at him, confidence rising since he hadn’t been immediately yelled at.

“Dunno, felt like it.”

Techno deadpans. It’s not a lie, he had felt like it, it’s a just a bit deeper feelings that made him do it as well, and he doesn’t want to get into those.

A little snort comes from the pig in front of him. Tommy looks up to ask what’s so funny, but suddenly he’s pulled into a loose hug. It’s a bit awkward, since Techno doesn’t want to get  too  close, and Tommy’s legs dangle slightly off the couch, but it’s a hug nonetheless.

They don’t need to acknowledge that Tommy needs this. Honestly, Techno probably needs it just as much.

Tommy can’t really sit still, so he shifts around until he can rest his head on Technos shoulder. Techno doesn’t comment on their closeness, or scold Tommy for being weak. He simply wraps himself around him, picks his book back up, and goes back to reading with the teen in his lap.

Tommy sighs and settles into the touch. It feels nice, just having someone. It’s warm and comfortable, Techno even absentmindedly rubs his back. He’s gonna fall asleep.

When the moment ends, duty calls and pulls them from the couch and back to work in the real world, they don’t talk about it. They ignore the newfound warmth between them, but it doesn’t really bother Tommy. He knows that he can do that again, sometime. Techno doesn’t need to be sappy for him to know he cares.

A private smile crosses his face as they travel into the woods.

“Com’on Theseus!”

“Yeah, I’m here! Shut up!”


	14. Replaced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ranboo hates seeing Tommy feeling so horrible during his exile.

Tommy has stopped making sense in his responses. Ranboo comes at night, when Dream is less likely to be around and Tommy is asleep, and checks the message box again. He’s glad that the masked man hasn’t found the new hiding spot for the letter box.

He pulls the small box out from under Tommy’s bed. His sleeping friend looks worse then the last time Ranboo saw him. 

His eyes have dark circles under them, his clothes are torn and dirty, there’s even a few cuts and bruises on the guys face. Ranboo wishes he’d come sooner.

The box opens with a slight click. He’s glad Tommy is such a deep sleeper, because he’d feel awful if he woke the other up. He lifts the journal they’d been sharing from the box and flips through the pages. A few weeks worth of letters are written there. Ranboo tried to stay positive in all his letters, an attempt to cheer up his exiled friend. It didn’t work, clearly.

Tommy’s letters start angry, then they become sad. They get a little happier halfway through, talking about his “new friendship with Dream.” Ranboo is cautiously optimistic, but it’s suspicious to him that Tommy suddenly trusts the man who’d always been his enemy, up until now. They become sad again, later. Tommy writes about Dream not coming around as often, how no one turned up to his party.

Ranboo remembers frustration at that letter. He hadn’t even gotten an invitation, how was he supposed to know? Though, it’s also very possible he’d misplaced the invite then forgotten the party. He really hoped not.

He finally gets to the latest letter.

It’s shorter then previous entries, which immediately has him concerned. Tommy usually has so much to say, so many thoughts swirling in his head. So few words from him was unheard of. 

The letter is misspelled in a lot of places, and there’s water spots on the page. Tommy was crying. The letter was a goodbye, of sorts.

_** “I don’t think I have that long left, Ranboo. ** _

_** Thank you for everything.” ** _

It sounded like....

Like Tommy was dying.

Ranboo stares at the boy on the bed in front of him. He is paler then usual, and his breaths come with a slight wheeze, like they’re being pushed through him teeth. He shivers despite the blanket on top of him, curling further in on himself. Despite only being a few months younger then himself, he looks so small, suddenly.

_ (A compass is clutched to his chest, even in his sleep. Ranboo never touches the compass. He already knows.) _

The ender hybrid isn’t good at judging human temperatures, but he’s guessing that Tommy is running one right now.

He’s on his feet immediately-hitting his head on the top of the tent in his rush-and running to find Wilbur.

He searches the small, dark Logstedshire campsite, and finds no signs of the ghost. It’s quiet except for the occasional “Moo” from Mushroom Henry, who lifts his head when Ranboo comes in. It takes him a few minutes to decide that Wilbur is definitely not here.

When he gets back to Tommy, the shivering has gotten worse. A small whimper escapes, and Ranboo nearly cries himself. He has no idea what he’s supposed to do! He doesn’t get sick-or at least-he hasn’t yet!

“Okay, warmth. Let’s start with warmth.” He finally decides after a good minute of hard concentration. That makes sense, right? Tommy had a cold, so warm him up and it’ll go away!

He digs through the stacked barrels in Legstedshire. He finds a few things that could be useful, ingredients for meals, flint and steel _(and even more logs.)_

He finally finds a blanket inside the house. 

He pulls it from the chest quickly, nearly knocking the whole thing over. Ranboo decides he has no time to worry about his clutzy-ness.

He makes his way back to the tent with a torch in hand. His heart is racing, but he can’t tell if he’s scared, or livid.

Dream was here nearly everyday, according to Tommy. There was no way he didn’t notice the teens deteriorating health. Not to mention his clothes! Why hadn’t Dream helped him.

_ You know why. _

He may not remember much, but he’s written it down. The smirks that peak slightly from behind the mask. The subtle way he pulls Tommy away from anyone who visits. The insults covered in poisonous honey that he whispers into Tommy’s ears. Ranboo wishes, again, that he’d been sooner.

He should’ve never trusted Dream to care about Tommy in the slightest.

He wraps the blanket around shaking shoulders as tight as he can. The shivers slow a little bit, becoming less and less violent, but still present. He’s glad he brought the flint in steal with him, and sets about making a fire.

After several attempts _(and a few new burn marks)_ it’s lit. The flame is close enough to light up the tents interior, but far enough to not light the tent on fire. He’s happy with his work, especially as he watches the shaking subside fully.

The light seems to have woken Tommy up slightly, the boy shifting from his sleep and sitting up slightly. Ranboo watches as bleary eyes blink a couple times, not really waking up. His eyes are still mostly shut when he looks at the ender hybrid next to his tent. A sleepy smile comes across his face. 

“Mm...thanks, Tubbo.”

Tommy turns around again, back now facing the outside world. Ranboo sits there, lets the thoughts flow into his mind. Tubbo. Tommy. Him. Rebounds, replacements.

Ranboo wishes he’d been a lot sooner.

_ (When Tommy wakes up, he’s pleasantly surprised by a warm fire and bowl of soup. He wonders if his best friend had come to visit him at last, during the night. He decides that he might be able to make it just one more day.)  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of angst in this one, couldn’t resist. :P


	15. Broken Compass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo lets himself break down, finally processing the fact his best friend is gone.
> 
> (Yet, he’s right there?)

The bees are more active then usual, today. They buzz around their vibes, and Tubbo watches in fascination as they work. They’re really cool, even if people see his obsession with them as childish. He plants a few more flowers as he watches, hoping to add a little color to their enclosure.

He allows himself to him as he works. It’s comfortable on here, quieter then the bustle of the city and louder then the deafening silence in his office. He’s allowing himself a break, for once.

He sure as hell wasn’t expecting the normal looking, wooden wall next to him to suddenly bust open.

It swings out violently, smashing into another part of the wall, before slamming shit again. He stares at the spot in complete confusion.

First of all, these walls are made completely of logs. How someone could manage to make a completely hidden doorway, especially in such short time, is beyond him. 

Second, there was no one there to open or close said secret door. No one at all, as far as he could tell.

He slowly stands, walking towards the spot. Cautiously, he reaches his hand out, searching for a crease that should be there, if it wasn’t his imagination-

“FUCK!”

His head bashes against the door as it’s shoved open once again, and he continues to curse as a throbbing pain echoes in his forehead. 

“Shit, sorry! W-Tubbo?!”

That voice.

Tubbo forces himself through the pain, trying to open his eyes. That’s the voice that’shaunted his dreams for months now, ever since their fight. That’s the voice of his best friend, someone closer to him then anyone else, someone who he’s missed more then anything in the world. _That’s Tommy’s voice._

Yet, nothing and no one stands before him when he does get his eyes to open. Not even the doorway, which he never heard close, was in sight. He stares at the spot. He swears he heard Tommy’s voice, coming out from the doorway and shouting his name in excitement.

Tubbo continues to watch the nothing in front of him, willing Tommy to appear. It doesn’t work. 

He feels that slow build before he cries. The well up of tears, lifting the emotions he’d been trying to suppress to the top, forcing him to look at them, feel them.

That’s right, Tommy’s dead. There’s no way it was Tommy’s voice. 

A dry sob escapes him despite his attempts to suffocate it. It hurts his throat. He doesn’t care.

He deserves to feel this way, after all. He’d killed his best friend.

He’s killed his best friend, and now there’s no going back, no changing his actions. 

He slumps to the ground against the wall. Slowly, he lifts his hand to the compass that’s pressed to his chest. He pulls it from beneath his shirt, studies it’s top.

The silver case is shined to perfection, the center engraved in clear, delicate font,

**_ “Your Tommy” _ **

He hadn’t opened the compass since his visit to Lagstedshire. He saw the tower his friend had built, saw the remains of that blown up camp. 

He’s terrified.

Terrified that he’ll open the compass, and it’ll be broken. It won’t turn anymore, won’t point forever towards his closest companion anymore. Maybe the needles won’t even be there, maybe they’ll spin desperately, trying to find what direction Tommy is in. They’d never find it again. He’s terrified that the moment he opens it, it’ll all become real. 

Another sob has him shaking, and he clings to the compass, holding it to his heart. 

“Tubbo...?”

He looks up sharply, whipping his tears. It must be Quackity or Fundy, coming to remind him of whatever work he had planned today.

“Y-yeah, hang on, sorry.”

A weak hiccup interrupts him, but he can’t bring himself to feel embarrassed. Even if they thought he was pathetic, who cares? Hell, maybe he is. So weak, bending to Dreams every command, exiling his friend.  Killing him.

A hand meets his shoulder, and he jolts. Another comes to his back, and suddenly he’s wrapped into a tight hug.

The tears come back faster then he can register.

Tubbo sobs into the persons shoulder, and can’t help but relive it. They’re taller then him, warm and solid. They feel like Tommy. It’s nearly too much, knowing that his friend is gone. He feels like he’s hugging Tommy, and he allows himself to believe it, for a moment.

He whips his tears as he pulls back.

“T-thank you so much, you’re-“

Tommy’s face is in front of him. He has a hesitant, yet hopeful expression on his face as he stares back a Tubbo, still holding his shoulders lightly.

Tubbo blinks, rubs his eyes.

“S-sorry, I just, you-I....for a second-“

He looks back up, and his sight hasn’t changed. Tommy looks a little confused now, grinning awkwardly back. Tubbo has to remind himself to breath.

“Tommy?!”

“Shut up man! Do you want me to be found?!”

Tommy is immediately back to being a prick, slapping Tubbos arm as he looks around wildly, as if someone would appear and take him away without warning.

_ Well, maybe that’s a possibility, now. _

“Look, I know I’m banned, but you were crying, and I felt bad and- I’m still mad at you, by the way, don’t think this is me forgiving you...er-well maybe I’m not that mad, but-“

He watches in awe as Tommy rambles to him. He grabs the others shoulders and squeezes.

“Ow! What the fuck, man? That hurts!”

A laugh leaves his lips. It sounds a lot like a sob, and he watches Tommy immediately go back to being worried, which only makes him laugh again. He continues to giggle as he pulls his best friend, his Tommy, into another hug. Tommy laughs awkwardly along, clearly confused, but reciprocating the contact.

“I thought you were dead! Tommy- _holy shit-Tommy!”_

More tears leave him as another tidal wave of emotions crashes over him. He feels his chest swell, and for a moment, it feels like drowning.

But he’s not drowning. Tommy is there, hugging him back, talking loudly in his ear, pulling him to the surface and helping him breath again. 

They talk for hours after that, ignoring all the bullshit for just a moment, and just spending time as stupid fucking teenagers. Tommy tells him about living in the snow, how he has a new, stuck up house mate (Tubbo has a feeling he knows who, but he stays quiet.) Tommy listens to him talk about L’Manburg’s growth in the past few months, how Quackity had “birthed” El Rapids, how they’re working on red stone contraptions all around the country. 

Tommy eventually has to leave, chugging an invisibility potion and ducking through the beehive entrance as Tubbo watched.

Yet, Tubbo felt happier then he had in months. His friend is alive, breathing and happy. He’s different, in some way, but he’s still Tommy.

Tubbo opens the compass that’s clasped around his neck.

The needle points directly north, following Tommy home.


	16. Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream is sick of Quackity’s shit.

Dream is fucking pissed. God, he’d really taken it too far this time. 

Quackity had been fucking around, big surprise. What he hadn’t expected, however, was for Dream to show up right as he shot an arrow, ending up shooting the man in the arm. Apologies apparently don’t work anymore, and he’s very, very upset.  Oh _fuck_ , Dream is scary when he’s pissed.

Quackity dashes through L’Manburg and towards the Prime path, hoping to find somewhere to take shelter from the unbridled rage chasing him. Dream is right on his tail, shooting his own bow at the running man. 

Another arrow whizzes past him, very close to his ear. Adrenaline pulses through his erratically as the oncoming panic attack pushes him forward. Really, he should’ve thought this through. 

He ducks into the first house he finds, Eret’s cat cafe. It’s warm inside, and thankfully abandoned since Ponk stole all the cats. Dream is close behind, and he dashed up the stairs once he hears the door slam open.

“Quackity! Come here and face your punishment.”

His tone is slightly teasing, but it has a sharpened edge that can only mean trouble. Dream’s punishments range from a slap to the wrist to outright torture, and he isn’t in the mood to find out which.

Quackity finds a closet in the back corner of the second floor. He hesitates slightly, disliking the thought of getting caught in such a small space. But Dreams footsteps are coming up the stairs, sure to spot him in moments, and it shouldn’t be too long before the angry man searches elsewhere. He shuts the door as quietly and quickly as he can, leaving him in utter darkness.

Dream is pacing the room already, and he realizes with a start how horrible an idea this is. The cafe is practically empty, and the closet is the only possible hiding place in here. No other escape routes where open, so there’s no way he won’t get caught.

Still, he holds his breath as the footsteps get closer, waits for the inevitable doom.

It doesn’t come.

Instead, he hears a slight laugh, and the sound of clinking metal. Maybe Dream was getting a pan or something?

_ What is that noise? _

The doorknob jiggles slightly, and he tenses again. It doesn’t open though, motion stopping abruptly and the sound of footsteps leaving. Maybe Dream got distracted by something?

He waits with bated breath, but it seems like the masked man has truly left, not even the hint of breathing coming from outside the closet.

Quackity lets out a deep breath. He’s safe, for the moment. He’s glad that he hasn’t had to stay in the closet for to long, wings cramped against his back and practically blind. He twists the handle in front of him.

The closet remains shut.

The panic is immediate, hitting like a fucking bolder and nearly knocking him to the ground. He prays to anything he can think of that it was a mistake on his part, that if he tries again the knob will turn and allow him back into the free world.

His prayers are left unheard, second and third attempts yielding no new results.

He can feel it building inside him, the absolute terror. His wings are already spreading as wide as they can, beating against the sides of his trap. His hands shake violently as he tries the handle again, to no avail. Cold sweat trickles down his back and face. Quackity pulls away from the door, rearing back before slamming into it. That ice cold, metallic noise echoes from the other side.

_ No, no, no no, no no no no- _

Of course Dream, the fucking bastard wouldn’t let him go that easily. Of course he’d lock Quackity in with fucking chains and in the dark trapped in such a small fucking place.

His wings hit the wall particularly hard as the full force of his fear sets in. He lets out a pathetic sound at the contact. 

Schlatt had done this before, once or twice. 

Locked him inside his tiny office in the dark, not allowing him out for hours and hours as the sobbed at the door. Sometimes he’d be given tasks, get paperwork done, bind your wings down, change your attitude. He remembers in vivid detail the time the man had broken his arm on accident inside that suffocating room, then locked him in until he decided he could come out again. He’d managed to make the break much, much worse in that time period, eventually passing out from pain. He’d awoken later to clean a worried Niki and Schlatt spewing some cover story about him falling down the stairs.

“Dream! Dream please I’ll come out and face punishment! Man, come on!”

It’s futile, of course. Dream has already left, trapping him inside the closet as retribution. A sob passes through his lips, and he feels his head pounding. Quackity can’t see the walls or the ceiling, but he swears that they’re closing in on him. His wings continue to thrash against his containment, and his arms soon join those movements as desperation rises.

_ I’m going to die in here, I’m gonna fucking suffocate and fucking die and I’ll be trapped with Schlatt again-shit, Schlatt- _

“ _Schlatt_! Let me out! I’ll be good just let me out I did what you asked!”

The scream is tearing from his throat before he can stop it.

He knows, deep down, that Schlatt is dead. Can’t come back to hurt him or sneer at his pain and laugh at his anger, but it’s still there. The terror of being shoved towards his office while others watched with pity. The slanted pupils staring him down as he’s shoved against a wall. The vicious whispers that eventually became bellows of rage.

“Fuck...please, please, I’ll be good, I’m sorry, I’m sorry...”

He wraps his wings around himself tightly, but it doesn’t help. If anything, it makes the cramped feeling worse, but he can’t spread them like he needs to. Tremors run through him, and he grasps at the doorknob for any form of support.

“ _Please_...”

The knob he’s holding twists slightly under his grip. 

“Big Q?”

The hesitant voice on the other side feels like a blessing and a curse. 

Quackity feels that immediate relief of someone there, someone to let him out and free his wings again. Then, he feels the deep dread in his chest as he realizes it’s Tubbo. 

The kid had known, and Schlatt had known he knew. There were times where Tubbo was the one sent to help, bring him food and drink while he recovered from his injuries. Quackity doesn’t know if Tubbo ever saw Schlatt lock him in, but frankly, it doesn’t matter. The moment the teen saw the look on his face, tears and panic and all, he’d know. No one gets that freaked out from just being locked in a closet, not without a reason.

The sound of clinking metal comes from the other side of the door. He tenses and whipped his tears, waiting for the inevitable.

He continues to wait for several minutes as Tubbo fumbles with the lock. Then, finally,

“Shit-Okay, Big Q I’m gonna go get Technoblade. Stay here, yeah?”

He nearly laughs-There’s no way he’d be able to go anywhere else anyway-but it sounds like a shallow sob, ringing out into the otherwise quiet space. He hears the footsteps that had been leaving stop.

“Quackity? Are-are you okay in there?”

Tubbo, as always, is sure not to push too far. He sounds worried, but knowing. Quackity has a feeling that the kid had been expecting the tears, even if he didn’t say it.

“Y-Yeah. Just dandy. Go get Techno, please.”

His voice fucking cracked. A pause. The footsteps don’t start again.

“Are you sure? I could just send Tommy a message and he could go wake him up?”

He takes a deep breath in an attempt to steady the waver in his voice, not give away the fine line between total panic and barely sane he treads. He really, really doesn’t want Tommy to see him like this. The teen had barely seen him show any emotion other then loud laughter, much less a full blown panic attack. He doesn’t want to loose those good, happy laughs they have together, like he had with Tubbo.

“Just go. Please.”

He’d said it as firmly as he can manage at the moment, yet Tubbo still makes no sign of leaving. Instead, he hears the click of a phone, and he doesn’t have the will to fight it.

_Shit_.

“Okay, seems like they’re already awake, and now they’re on the way. I’m here, if you want me to be.”

Quackity whimpers low in his throat. It’s sweet, the thought for his distressed mind, but he feels absolutely pathetic right now. He wants as few people involved as possible, but that seems to not be a possibility anymore.

Techno and Tommy arrive in five minutes, apparently having ridden Carl. Tommy is still loudly boasting about the horses size, saying that it was a shared horse, now. Techno seems to disagree, telling the kid he can walk home. Tubbo greets them at the doorway.

They’re led upstairs and his situation is explained.

“Pfft-really? _Dream_ trapped him in there? That’s hilarious.”

Quackity wants to scream. He does not need to be made fun of right now, not while his mind is still full of similar memories, similar nights. He decides to focus on looking presentable instead, pulling the beanie back on his head, which had fallen in his panic. He wipes his cheeks and eyes, even as more tears threaten to spill, praying that it just looks like he’s tired. He can’t see his wings, but he’s sure they’re disheveled. He can blame that on the closet, at least.

Techno has the lock busted in just over a minute, bashing it with the blunt end of his axe. The boar hybrid immediately notices his tears, ears drooping from their usually neutral position, just slightly. 

He looks confused, flustered by the situation already and even more by the tears. Quackity’s sure he’s thinking about how pathetic Quackity is, for crying over a stupid little closet. He hadn’t even been in there that long, maybe an hour at most.

So it’s surprising to him when there’s a cloak draped around his shoulders instead of some off-handed comment. It’s warm, thick. He looks at Techno, who just awkwardly scratches his ear and attempts to look smaller, trying to be sweet.

It’s a hilariously horrible attempt to comfort him.

The laughter bubbles in his chest and bursts unexpectedly, as he watches the usually threatening man try not to panic while dealing with others emotions. 

Tommy and Tubbo glance over, confused and worried equally. Quackity feels the shame push back the forefront again, laughter fading as he stares back at the teens.

“Well, let’s head back, yeah?”

It startles him, honestly.

Tommy just grins at him, grabbing Tubbo’s arm and pulling him to the houses entrance, rushing them home. Techno follows silently, glancing back at him before they hop onto the horse.

“You’re gonna need to give that cloak back.”

Tubbo hops onto Carl first, claiming victory over Tommy, who pouts and fumes at the other. Techno huffs in annoyance and pushes both teens off his horse, opting to ride alone this time. Tommy turns to Quackity to continue his complaints, but stops short.

The wide smile across Quackitys face is something he’s never seen before.

Real, true joy and light in his face, looking uplifted. He’s not playing some character to put on a show, not laughing loudly to drown away the worries of the world, no. He walks to the group quietly, smile spread across his face with all the warmth of the sun.

Tommy decides not to tease him about how Technos cloak drags on the ground behind him, for now.


End file.
